


the lighting is never right

by Gohandinhand



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cunnilingus, F/F, This is just an excuse for sin really, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 19:53:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6534226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gohandinhand/pseuds/Gohandinhand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke's good at one thing when she's drunk, and it's definitely not using technology correctly.<br/>(But for once, that actually turns out in her favor.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the lighting is never right

**Author's Note:**

> [Natalie](http://www.fluent-in-lesbianism.tumblr.com/) is officially an old lady today, and she requested Clexa sin for her birthday so... here we are!

Clarke may had had more than a few drinks while “studying” with Octavia, but she wasn’t so drunk that she couldn’t trust her own evaluation. If there is one thing drunk Clarke has nailed down, it’s… appraising assets.

“Holy shit, my new bra is doing my boobs a _favor.”_ She looks at herself in her mirror, turning side to side to take in her shirtless form from every angle. “This needs to be shared,” she drunkenly decides, fumbling for her phone and posing for several pictures. She scrolls down her contact list, hovering momentarily over “Hottest friend” and “Hotter than Octavia” - Octavia and Raven’s latest updates for themselves in her phone - before remembering that Octavia went home with Lincoln and will now obviously be otherwise occupied. “Well, Raven’s getting lucky tonight too,” Clarke mutters to herself as she sends the picture, then cackles at her own joke.

She manages to gather up advil and water - she’s going to be proactive about the morning, just in case - brush her teeth, and strip out of her jeans before she realizes that Raven still hasn’t replied. Clarke frowns to herself;  a delay in responding to a scantily-clad Clarke is out of character for anyone, but particularly for Raven. She thumbs open her messages, and her jaw _drops_.

Clarke had, in her drunken wisdom, managed to send the picture not to “Hotter than Octavia,” but instead “Hot girl from Soc341”. The hot girl she’d only just been partnered with and exchanged numbers with the day before, had just received a completely unsolicited nude from Clarke.

“Well, fuck.” Clarke feels the horror and embarrassment quickly sobering her up, but nothing speeds up the process quite as quickly as the three typing dots appearing on her screen as she looks at the message.

 

 **Hot girl from Soc341**  
_I’m not sure what I did to deserve that?_ __  
_But thank you._ _  
__You’re right, that bra is excellent._

The messages keep rolling in and Clarke watches, eyes wide, as it appears her mishap went over well instead of offending the girl that - if she’s being honest - has seemed quite uptight every time Clarke has interacted with her.

_Honestly I’m drunk and stupid but I’m glad you appreciate it_

**Hot girl from Soc341**  
_Definitely no complaints here, boobs are great._  
And yours are excellent specimens.  
  
  


_Thank you, thank you, that means a lot_

_Although now it seems like too much work to send_  
it to the friend who I was trying to send it to in the first place  
since you took care of the compliments I was fishing for

 

The hot girl - Lexa, Clarke reminds herself. She really needs to start using her name or she’s going to slip up and call her “that hot girl” to her face and while the selfie might have gone over well, Clarke really doesn’t want to push her luck. _Lexa_ stops replying, and after a glance at the time, Clarke shrugs and decides Lexa probably fell asleep. She follows suit quickly, passing out hard lying sideways across her bed.

 

It’s Clarke’s luck that the next day she shares a class with Lexa. By the time their afternoon class rolls around, she’s 100% sober but still mortified about her mistake. She does her best to avoid looking in the direction of Lexa’s usual seat when she enters the classroom, sitting down and studiously arranging her materials on her desk only to promptly and completely fail at avoiding Lexa, looking up and locking eyes with her from halfway across the room. Clarke flushes red and looks down again, pretending to be busy with papers on her desk until their professor starts the lecture. Clarke is relieved, until the lecture abruptly comes to a halt twenty minutes early.

“We didn’t have much time last class, so go ahead and take the few minutes to work with your project partner to get started and get the details worked out!” the professor announces, and Clarke feels herself die inside.

By the time Lexa has moved to the seat next to hers, Clarke has run through five different scenarios that involve her running dramatically from the classroom, and another two that involve Raven coming to rescue her with some excuse. (Raven, fuck her, didn’t even answer the SOS text message.) But Lexa’s already next to her now, and Clarke swallows thickly and turns to face the music, an apology ready on her tongue.

“I’m _so_ sorry,” Lexa cuts her off before she can begin.  

“I am so - wait, what?” Clarke questions. “ _You’re_ sorry? What for?”

“I didn’t realize you had meant it for someone else, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable - I never would have replied like that if I thought it wasn’t meant for me, I’m sorry!”

“I… You, uh,” Clarke stumbles over her words. “You definitely have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not your fault I’m a drunken idiot who likes my own boobs too much. You definitely don’t have to feel bad, okay?”

“Okay,” Lexa agrees with a relieved smile.

“I’m glad you could appreciate it, though,” Clarke teases, and this time Lexa is the one blushing.

“What can I say, it’s a great bra.” Lexa’s eyes dart down to Clarke’s chest, and then immediately back up, completely unsubtly.

“Yeah, I’m not wearing it today. I couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed by it,” Clarke grins, and Lexa snorts out a laugh.

“Gotta make it pay somehow?” Lexa laughs, and Clarke winks and nods as she pulls out the paper for their project, the matter seeming settled enough that they can get to work. “It really doesn’t need to, though,” Lexa mutters quietly as pulls her own materials out, and maybe she didn’t _mean_ for Clarke to hear, but she did, and she can’t help the surprised squeak she emits as she yanks her head up to look at her partner. “Sorry, sorry, oh my god that was so inappropriate, please ignore me!” Lexa scrambles to fix the situation again, but Clarke just - blinks at her, thinking.

“No, it’s fine. The appreciation of a fellow boob connoisseur is to be treasured,” Clarke says slowly, smirking at Lexa as she finishes.

“In that case, I _really_ appreciate it.” Lexa mirrors Clarke’s expression.

“How are you two doing?” Their professor suddenly appears at Clarke’s elbow and both girls jump, suddenly aware of the din of the classroom around them.

“Oh, we’re great!” Lexa assures hastily, and Clarke nods in agreement, hoping none of their conversation had been overheard.

“Everything taken care of? Contact details exchanged, workload broken down and all?” The pair just nods again, and the professor smiles at them. “Well, then you’re free to take off!” she tells them with a small shooing gesture. Clarke glances around, just now realizing that the rest of the class is packing up and leaving already, and she hurries to start throwing her things back in her bag as Lexa does the same next to her. They’re the last two out of the room, and Lexa holds the door open for her, Clarke grinning at her as she passes through.

“Wait a second, Clarke,” Lexa says as the door swings shut behind them. Clarke looks at her, one eyebrow raised and - if she’s being truthful - still feeling pretty flustered by their whole conversation. “Uh, we didn’t actually get around to figuring anything out for the project,” Lexa says with a wry smile, and if Clarke had a free hand she’d be smacking herself in the head right now.

“Yeah, wow, you’re right. Um, okay - do you have to go to another class right now or do you have some free time?”

“This is my last class of the day,” Lexa informs her, and Clarke flashes a quick smile at her.

“Perfect. Mine too. Do you want to go work on this right now? My apartment is about ten minutes that way,” Clarke says, gesturing with her elbow, and Lexa nods in agreement.

“Lead the way,” Lexa says with a dramatic flourish. Clarke curtsies in return, giggling as she does so, and then offers the same elbow again to Lexa, who promptly hooks her arm in it for Clarke to lead the way.

 

Clarke isn’t really _surprised_ when they spend the entire walk to her place flirting, but she wasn’t prepared for the effect being in physical contact with Lexa at the same time would have. She’s actually embarrassed that Lexa’s weight against her side and some flirting - more and more suggestive though it may be getting - is enough to be getting her wet, and she curses her lengthy dry spell for her overreaction.

Lexa may be ridiculously hot, and probably interested if the flirting is anything to go by, but this is literally the first real conversation they’ve had and there’s no reason to be getting that far ahead of herself.

Clarke spends the last few minutes of their walk mentally castigating herself, so when she shows Lexa into her apartment and shuts the door behind them only to find Lexa’s lips pressed to hers, it takes her a few seconds to catch up to what’s happening.

“Oh my god, I’m _so_ sorry, I misread the situation, I thought you were - “ Lexa pulls back and starts rambling, clearly mortified, and that’s when Clarke’s brain starts working again.

“Nope, no misreading here,” Clarke cheerfully cuts Lexa off, then tugs her back in. Lexa comes willingly, burying one hand in Clarke’s curls to tug her head in and resume kissing. Clarke is the one who moves to deepen it, tracing the seam of Lexa’s lips with her tongue, and Lexa opens obligingly. The kiss turns dirty fast, and there’s a loud thump of Lexa’s and Clarke’s bags hitting the floor simultaneously. Before she knows what’s happening, Lexa has Clarke pinned up against the wall, and Clarke settles into the new position gladly, practically writhing against Lexa’s body.

When Lexa finally breaks away for air, panting against Clarke’s neck, Clarke laughs shallowly as she observes, “Fuck, I really wish I’d worn that bra now.” She expected Lexa to laugh too, but instead she _growls_ , reclaiming Clarke’s lips for another deep kiss before pulling back again.

“Fuck, me too,” Lexa says, her gravelly voice sending another hot pulse down to the juncture of Clarke’s thighs. “No bra would do just as well, though,” she murmurs into Clarke’s ear, and Clarke is desperately yanking her shirt off before Lexa even finishes her sentence. The bra she has on is okay, a little lacy and at least cute, even if it doesn’t do her boobs the same justice her new one does. The look of lust in Lexa’s eyes as she admires the sight of topless Clarke in the flesh actually makes Clarke _whimper_ , and Lexa chuckles darkly before pressing a trail of kisses down Clarke’s jaw and neck.

“Fuck, Lexa. Bedroom?” Clarke moans as she tilts her head to give Lexa more access as she sucks wetly on her pulse point.

“No,” Lexa growls into Clarke’s neck, grazing her teeth lightly across Clarke’s exposed skin. “Right here.”

 _Fuck_. Clarke’s underwear is ruined, there’s no way it isn’t, and it doesn’t even matter because -

“Off. Take it off,” she whimpers, and Lexa pulls back to oblige her, neatly unsnapping Clarke’s bra with one hand before reaching down to unbutton Clarke’s jeans and tug them down. Clarke steps out of them, nearly stumbling before Lexa catches her, and Clarke catches her mouth again in a hungry kiss. Her nipples rub against the rough fabric of Lexa’s top and she shivers in delight, but nonetheless she pulls back again to frown at Lexa. “You’re wearing too much,” she complains, and Lexa grins at her smugly before she starts methodically stripping her own clothes off. Clarke watches dazedly as Lexa’s smooth skin is revealed piece by piece, and it’s only when Lexa snaps the band of Clarke’s underwear as a reminder that Clarke remembers and shimmies her last piece of clothing down her own legs.

As soon as they’re both bare Lexa zeroes in on Clarke’s boobs, immediately pulling a nipple into her mouth as her hand focuses on the other, and Clarke moans loudly, her head falling back against the wall with a thump. Her hand delves immediately into Lexa’s loose curls, and she feels Lexa shiver as Clarke’s short fingernails scrape lightly across the back of her head.

“Shit, your boobs really are great,” Lexa murmurs as she pulls back, straightening up to exchange another dirty kiss with Clarke.

“Yours aren’t so bad either,” Clarke gasps into Lexa’s mouth, and this time it’s Lexa’s moans being muffled by Clarke’s mouth as her hands come up to test the weight of Lexa’s breasts.

One of Lexa’s hands leaves Clarke’s boobs, and she wants to cry until she feels it traveling down her stomach and pausing at the thatch of blonde curls until Clarke nods, and then Lexa is parting Clarke’s folds. Lexa swipes two fingers through Clarke’s wetness, and Clarke jolts as she passes teasingly over her clit. Her finger circles Clarke’s entrance, and they let out twin moans as they could _hear_ how desperately wet Clarke was, and Clarke would be mortified by her reaction if she wasn’t so painfully turned on.

“Fuck, Clarke. I really want to go down on you. Can I go down on you?” Lexa asks desperately, and Clarke wants to answer, she really does, but all she can do is _moan_ as she nods furiously in reply. Lexa pulls her hand away and when she grabs Clarke’s leg, Clarke can feel her own juices on her hand. Lexa drops to her knees in front of her, and the sight is enough to send a fresh pulse of wetness to her core.

Lexa leans in closer, grabbing Clarke’s leg and lifting it up to prop on her shoulder, opening her up and exposing her to Lexa’s gaze, and Lexa lets out a ragged moan.

“Clarke, you’re so wet, holy shit.” Lexa groans, and Clarke nods frantically, beyond words even though Lexa has barely even touched her yet. As though she could sense Clarke’s thoughts, without further delay Lexa leans forward and swipes her tongue through Clarke’s folds.

At the feel of Lexa’s tongue on her, Clarke drops her head back against the wall again, this time hard enough that it might actually hurt later, but at the moment she can’t concentrate on anything but the feel of Lexa’s tongue teasingly circling her entrance before moving up to place torturously slow licks across her clit. Clarke can’t help the needy grind she presses into Lexa’s mouth, and Lexa obligingly takes the hint, latching onto Clarke’s clit to place fast flicks with her tongue. She lets go of Clarke’s leg and a moment later, Clarke feels one finger sinking into her as Lexa stops licking to _suck_ , and suddenly Clarke can feel herself hurtling towards the edge embarrassingly quickly. Lexa presses another finger in alongside the first and crooks them as she rocks her hand back and forth, and when she zeroes in on the right spot Clarke lets out a loud moan and starts rocking down onto Lexa’s hand and mouth.

“Fuck, Lex, right there,” Clarke whimpers. “Shit, I’m so close, oh my god, please.” Lexa moans in response to Clarke’s begging, and that’s what does it; the vibrations to her clit and the pressure against her g spot toss her over the edge without ceremony, and she convulses as Lexa gently fingers her through her orgasm, drawing it out as long as possible. When it finally ends, Clarke slumps against the wall, Lexa supporting most of her weight as she slithers back up Clarke’s body to press another kiss to Clarke’s lips. She can taste herself on Lexa, and her legs still aren’t really working but fuck if Clarke isn’t already almost ready for round two.

Just almost, though.

“Okay. I’m gonna need another minute, and it’s definitely going to need to be in bed, but I’m ready to return the favor,” Clarke gasps into Lexa’s mouth, still trying to catch her breath. Lexa laughs, but holds her hands out out to haul Clarke upright, acting quickly to scoop Clarke up into her arms instead when Clarke’s legs buckle under her weight. “I said I needed another minute!” Clarke protests even as Lexa laughs at her.

“Do you have enough energy in you to point the way to the bedroom?” Lexa teases, and Clarke glowers at her playfully before guiding Lexa to her bedroom. She gets her back when Lexa can’t even sit up an hour later.

  
They do, eventually, work out the project details over the pizza Clarke orders a few hours later - as well as the details of their first date.  
(That doesn't stop them from not-so-accidentally exchanging a few pictures that night, though.) 

 

**Author's Note:**

> My trashcan is gohandinhand.tumblr.com  
> Enter at your own risk?


End file.
